The Smell of Sleepovers
by lettuceleave
Summary: "Hey. Stiles. Wake up." "Wha?" "You're drooling on me." Where Scott starts coming by every night to keep Stiles' nightmares at bay. Because that's what best friends do. Takes place in season 3b, right after "anchor".
1. Chapter 1

Stiles wakes up from the nightmare, screaming. He opens his eyes and tries to sit up, but suddenly thre are glowing red eyes and razor sharp fangs right in his face. The werewolf is roaring at him.

Stiles' scream dies in his throat and he squeaks in a very unmanly fashion, wiggling away from under the werewolf and dropping off his bed with flailing arms.

"Scott, what the hell!"

The roaring subsides and turns first into a low rumbling chuckle and then into Scott's husky laugh. The red eyes turn brown again and Scott's face reemerges under the fur.

"New Stiles rule: no powers in the… I mean, when you… You know what, just don't scare me like that, dumbass!" His brain isn't working properly right now.

"I'm sorry," Scott replies, still laughing. "I didn't mean to. You weren't waking up until I roared your name. Don't worry, I have it under control again."

"Really? Because I distinctly remember you telling me how you almost wolfed out in front of your dad just a couple of days ago," he says, still keeping his distance from Scott. "

"I told you, I'm fine, okay?"

"No you're not. None of us are. We have to close those freakin' doors. I have to figure out how to stop the dreams, and you have to find a new anchor, because otherwise you're going to accidentally shred me to pieces, and I am really not very fond of the whole shredding idea. I'm more of a dying-peacefully-kind-of-guy," he says, waving his arms frantically.

"Stiles, calm down."

"Don't tell me to—"

"I've found it."

"What?"

"An anchor."

"Wait, what? Who? Are you telling me it's Kira?"

"No." Scott hesitates. "You."

Stiles folds his arms firmly.

"That's not going to work. Because Stiles?" he says, pointing at himself with both thumbs. "Is not your girlfriend."

"Deaton says it doesn't have to be. You're my best friend. Who could be better? Just now when you fell off the bed and made that noise… you made me remember my humanity quicker than Alison ever did."

"Oh. Well, in that case…" Stiles sits down on his bed next to Scott. "I always knew I would be a good anchor. A great anchor. And for the record, I didn't fall off my bed, I just dodged… horizontally… with the appropriate amount of speed."

It's 3am, but Stiles doesn't want to go back to sleep. They end up playing videogames and eating junk food all night until his dad comes back from the night shift, carrying even more boxes of files than the day before.

The next night, Stiles lies in bed, trying not to fall asleep. Still sleep deprived from the night before, he fell asleep several times in school. The thought of those dreams make his heart race with panic.

"Stiles," Scott calls softly from the window.

"Yeah, come in," he replies in the dark, not bothering to get up.

The bed creaks softly as Scott lay down next to him. He touches Stiles' clammy hand. Scott is warm.

"What are you doing?"

"I want to help."

"You can't. I'm not in pain. I'm just scared."

Several minutes pass in silence.

"Your heartbeat is better now. It's slowed down since I came in," Scott says encouragingly.

"You're feeling for my heartbeat?" Stiles snatches his hand away from Scott's touch.

"I was worried about you, so I listened for a while before I came in."

"Sometimes your wolf powers are creepy. Actually, they're always creepy."

"I can still hear it, you know," Scott teases.

"Then don't listen to it," Stiles replies lazily and rolls to his side away from Scott.

There is a long silence, and they start to drift off to sleep.

"So, what, you're just going to sleep here tonight?" Stiles mumbles half asleep.

Scott places his hand on Stiles' upper arm.

"I'm going to stay here and make sure you don't have any more nightmares."

"That's nice," Stiles murmurs and dozes off.

Scott doesn't know if he was referring to what he said, or to his touch, so he keeps his hand where it is.

When Stiles wakes up, he counts his fingers. Five. He relaxes. He is on his back, sprawled all over the bed, his sheets in a cluster at his feet. Scott is all the way on the edge of the bed, still wearing his leather jacket. He is curled up on his side, but his hand is outstretched and resting lightly on Stiles' arm. He can feel Scott's warmth through the thin fabric of his sleeping T-shirt. They haven't slept in the same bed since they were kids. It doesn't feel awkward, but definitely different. Of course they've done a lot of sleepovers, but usually they would pass out on the floor, half way through a videogame and or halfway through a bottle of cheap liquor. This time they fell asleep lying next to each other – on purpose.

"Sleep alright?" Scott says softly and squeezes his arm.

Stiles leaps into the air with a yelp of surprise.

"Dude, I thought you were still asleep!"

"You've always been so jumpy," Scott laughes. He has sleep wrinkles on the side of his face

"Yeah? Well, that's what keeps us humans alive. Now c'mon. We've got to get to school."

The next night Stiles falls asleep to the sound of rain pounding against his window. It was nice having Scott for company the night before. But it's rainy tonight, and Scott can't watch over him every night now, can he.

Stiles wakes up with a scream. He vaguely registers the window being pushed open and someone jumping in.

"Stiles!" Scott calls. He presses Stiles' head against his soaking wet chest and holds him tight. Stiles stops yelling and silently pants against his collar bone, digging his fingers into Scotts leather jacket.

"It was just a dream. You're ok now," Scott says soothingly, rocking him back and forth.

"Just stay here, ok?" Stiles whispers when he's calmed down enough to speak.

"Yeah, sure man," Scott replies, patting him on the shoulder lightly.

"Why are you wet?" Stiles asks, the voice returning to his words.

"It's raining."

"Why didn't you come in?"

"You closed the window."

"Because it was raining, dumbass."

"I didn't know if you wanted me to come in."

"Scott, you stopped knocking years ago."

"Right. Sorry. I think I probably broke it this time."

"'Sokay. You broke the lock the first time you came through the window actually."

"Oh."

"How long were you waiting out there?"

"Uh, I texted you."

Stiles checks his phone. Two text messages. 8:14PM _Hey, do you need me to keep you company again tonight?_ 8:53PM _Count your fingers. Text me if you need me._

"Sorry man, I had my phone on silent because I was sneaking around to figure out what my dad is up to. You didn't have to sit outside in the rain just because of me, just in case I freaked out again."

"I wanted to. You're my best friend. That's what best friends do."

There is a pause. Scott is still holding Stiles tightly. He's dripping on the floor.

"You should probably change into something dry. You can have some of my clothes," Stiles says, breaking the embrace.

"Oh right, sorry!" Scott mumbles. He walks over to the desk and strips naked, hanging his wet clothes over the chair.

Stiles stares at Scott's naked backside. They change in front of each other all the time in the locker rooms, but this is different. This is in Stiles' room.

"I have boxers in the second drawer…" he begins, but Scott is already rummaging through the laundry basket of clean clothes.

"No you don't. You live out of your laundry basked like I do," he says, and slips on a pair of Stiles' boxers. The waistband clings to the lower curve of his butt cheeks for a bit, until it flips up and covers them. He turns around as he puts on a T-shirt and Stiles' gaze falls on his stomach and the bulge in the boxers.

"What? What is it?" Scott asks, noticing where Stiles is looking.

"Oh, nothing… I'm just… staring. Nothing like the empty gaze of a crazy person, is there?"

"You're not going crazy," Scott says and sits down next to him again.

He's holding out a clean T-shirt. Stiles realizes he's been hugging himself and rocking back and forth. He slowly unclenches his trembling hands and takes it.

"Here, let me," Scott says and helps Stiles out of his pajama T-shirt. "This one is all sweaty."

Scott's fingertips run along Stiles' sides grazing up to his armpit as he lifted the T-shirt over Stiles' head. He presses it to his nose.

"See? It smells like fear."

"Ok, this is me suppressing a dog joke," Stiles grins. "Do I still smell like fear?"

Scott leans in and and sniffs Stiles' neck, ever so slightly brushing his nose against his skin. Stiles shivers.

"Dude, I'm ticklish."

"You smell like… you had pepperoni pizza for dinner," Scott says and bursts out laughing.

"Dumbass!" He throws a pillow in Scott's face, but he just keeps laughing.

When they lie back down again, Stiles hesitates for a moment about how to lie down. He wants to keep Scott close, but suggesting they cuddle would be awkward. But Scott just slips under the sheets, lies down on his back, and guides Stiles to rest his head on his shoulder. He wraps his arm around Stiles' back as if it's the most natural thing to do. Stiles reaches around Scott's waist and rests his arm on Scott's stomach. As soon as he puts it there, it feels awkward. Like it's too much, and he should pull it back. But he doesn't want to.

"Remember when we were kids and used to sleep together?" Scott asks.

"Yeah."

"You used to like falling asleep on my arm just like this," Scott says.

"No, stupid, that was you."

"Really?"

"Yeah, you used to keep your asthma inhaler in one hand and it always ended up underneath me."

"Oh, right."

"Goodnight."

"Stiles?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you want me to be here tomorrow night, too?"

"M-hm."

"Ok, I'll bring my own PJs then."

"Mh."

"Stiles?"

"What."

"Your breath is tickling my armpit."

"Oh, Mphorry." Stiles scoots up a bit. Scott giggles.

"Now it's tickling my nipple!"

"You're wearing a frickin' T-shirt."

"They're sensitive!"

"They can't be that sensitive."

"It just feels… kinda weird."

Stiles grumbles in protest and shifts his head again, now pointing his nose towards Scott's neck. Even Stiles with his human senses can feel the shiver that's running over Scott's skin as he breathes out.

"Better?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess this is fine."

Stiles listened to the rain outside and the thumping of Scott's heartbeat against his face.

"Stiles?"

No answer.

"Stiles, are you awake? Oh, I guess not. Good night."

Stiles sleeps through the alarm, like always.

"Hey. Stiles. Wake up."

"Wha?"

"You're drooling on me."

"What? Oh, sorry," Stiles says, slowly letting go of his grip around Scott's body and wiping the corner of his mouth.

For the next four nights, Scott comes to his window every evening. He sleeps in boxers and a tank top. Stiles knows Scott usually sleeps shirtless on his own, but that would be awkward. He hasn't had another nightmare so far (well, not during the night). He also hasn't slept on Scott's chest again like he did on that rainy night. They just sleep next to each other now, a safe distance apart. But usually at some point during the night, when Stiles is turned on his side away from Scott, Scott presses his nose between Stiles' shoulder blades. At least that's usually how they wake up.

"Stiles, you're gonna make me come!"

Stiles doesn't have time to respond. Scott's cock slides all the way in and then he's shooting against the back of his throat. He pulls back again and Stiles tastes sweet and slightly salty cum on his tongue. He has just enough time to swallow before Scott thrusts deep again and more cum shoots down his throat.

"Fuck, Stiles, don't stop!"

But Stiles wasn't ready for this much cum. It's running from the corner of his mouth and dripping down his chin. He lets Scott's cock slip out of his mouth with a pop and wraps his hand around it, stroking him vigorously with all six fingers.

"Scott, it's too much!" His words are drowned by Scott's blasts of cum. It's splashing on his face covering his eyes and nose and mouth. Thick ropes land on his hair and run down the side of his neck.

"Stiles, I need your mouth!" Scott exclaims, and despite Stiles' protests, he shoves it in again, making Stiles gag.

He wakes up with a gasp.

"Stiles, it was just a dream!"

Scott is holding his hand, but Stiles breaks away and counts his fingers. Five. He sinks back into his pillow, still breathing hard.

"You ok?"

"Yeah, I'm ok now."

"What did you dream about?"

"Me? Nothing. Why? I wasn't talking in my sleep, was I?"

"You kept saying my name… first softly and then as if you were calling for help."

"Well, you're my go-to person when I need help."

Scott laughs softly.

"Literally. You're on speed dial, and then my dad. I'd never just call 911. In fact, Tara told me I shouldn't call when she's on shift…"

"It's just… I thought me sleeping over kept you from having nightmares."

"Well, this wasn't a nightmare exactly… just kind of a bad dream I guess?"

"It was a wet dream, wasn't it?"

"Dude, you promised not to do the lie-detector thing with me!"

"I'm not. You have a boner."

Stiles didn't realize, but he is indeed sporting a hard on. He even feels a wet spot in his boxers.

"How did you—"  
"Do you remember the day when Coach promoted you to first line and me to team captain?"

"You mean the day of your second full moon when you made out with Lydia?"

"Uh, yeah. Sorry again about that. But remember, I told you I could smell the jealousy in the locker room. Then you asked me if I could smell sexual desire and arousal…"

"Oh."

"Plus, your precome has a distinctive smell."

"Dude! Gross!" Stiles exclaimed and hit Scott with his pillow.

"Ow!" Scott yelped, and started giggling uncontrollably.

"TMI dude, that is one wolf power I did not need to know about!" Stiles keeps hitting him with the pillow until Scott snatches it away from him.

"And I can smell that you haven't, you know… done it… in a week."

"Well, what can I say. Evenings and mornings used to be Stiles Time, but now that time is no longer private. So excuse me for having a wet dream!"

"It's ok, I haven't done it in five days either."

"Now gimme back my pillow, dumbass."

"Fine, here you go. I'm just saying, it's cool. I don't care."

"About what?"

"I mean, I wouldn't mind."

"Wouldn't mind what?"

"If you jerked off."

"Wait, what, right now? Here? Like, right now?"

"Yeah."

"Don't you think that would be kinda weird? Me. Stiles. Doing my thing while you're just there. In my room. With me."

"D'you remember years ago when we stole that porn magazine together?"

"Are you seriously asking me if I forgot the number one best heist we ever pulled off?"

"I'm just saying, we jerked off to that magazine all the time together. And it wasn't awkward at all."

"You totally ruined that magazine though. That one time, you came so much and all over our favorite page."

"I remember, that was the picture of that woman getting handled by two guys," Scott said, laughing.

"Yeah and then the pages stuck together and we couldn't un-stick them. You used to come so freaking much."

"Still do. Actually, it's gotten even more – a werewolf thing I guess."

"Huh. The more ya know. I think I still have that magazine somewhere."

"Really?" Scott starts laughing, and they giggle for a while.

Eventually they sigh and fall silent. Stiles rolls to the side and tries to fall asleep again, but he can't. His boner won't go away. He feels the familiar sensation of Scott's nose between his shoulder blades. Stiles listens to Scott's breaths until they become regular and he's sure he's asleep. He needs to find a way to take care of himself, otherwise he won't be able to fall asleep.

"Scott?" he whispers. No answer, and no change in his breathing. But he doesn't have werewolf senses.

"Scott?" he says louder, just to be sure. Nothing.

Stiles carefully scoots away from Scott, and Scott shifts in his sleep. He tries to sit up, but Scott murmurs something, so he lies back down again. He can't get up without waking him. And he can't even reach the box of tissues from here. Oh well, he's really close anyway, it won't take long.

He pulls down the waistband of his pajama pants and boxers, and his cock already feels so much better. He turns to check on Scott, but his friend is fast asleep next to him, lips slightly parted.

Stiles starts slowly stroking his dick, careful not to cause the mattress to resonate too much. He's still looking at Scott's face – to make sure he's still sleeping of course. But images from his wet dream keep popping up in his mind's eye. Sure, Stiles has always been curious. Heteroflexible you could say. He finds a lot of things attractive, mostly girls (mostly Lydia really) but also occasionally guys. There is really no limit to his imagination and his fantasies. But this is Scott. His best friend. It's kinda weird.

Stiles never takes long to cum, and this load has been building up for a while now. He's getting close, and it feels so good, he doesn't really need to think about anything or anyone in particular. For the last couple of strokes, he can't help himself, he has to just go a bit faster. It makes the mattress bounce a little, but he doesn't care. Scott is still sleeping. When he finally cums, he lets out a very Stiles-like whimper – an orgasm noise that he's never quite learned how to suppress.

Scott's eyes are suddenly open, but it's too late now. Stiles cums in thick ropes on his stomach while looking straight into Scott's eyes. The cum slowly soaks through his T-shirt and feels warm against his stomach. Damn. He didn't think about the mess he just made.

"Stiles? What the—?"

"Uh, hey Scott… I was just—"

Suddenly Scott's nostrils flare up and his eyes flash up bright red.

Stiles jerks away, loses his balance and falls off the bed with an graceless thud.

"Woha, Scott, you ok?" he says from the safety of the floor.

"Take your shirt off," Scott growls through gritted sharp teeth.

"Scott, I—"

"Now!"

"Alright, alright, you're the wolf."

Stiles gets up and pulls it off over his head. Somehow he managed to get cum on his chin in the process. Scott snatches the T-shirt away from him as soon as he takes it off. He isn't wearing his tank top anymore and he is actually furiously beating off. Stiles stares at him with disbelief. Scott crumples up the the cum-T-shirt, sniffs it and growls. Then he holds it right in front of his cock, as if he's going to use it as a cum towel.

"Stiles!" he says in a low rumbling voice, exposing his sharp teeth.

"Yes, that's my name. Stiles. Always here to help, or get help, or just run away, really…"

"Get over here!" he orders, the alpha resonating in his words.

"Gah! Scott? You in there?"

The werewolf utters a threatening roar that makes Stiles flinch and jump back.

"Yesyes, I'm on my way… I am so going to regret this."

He carefully lies down again next to Scott, and the werewolf immediately bends over him, fangs exposed.

"Pleasedon'tkillme ohGodohGod pleasedon'tkillme…"

Scott presses his mouth over Stiles' chin and slopily licks off the cum that was left there, and retreats, lying down on his back again.

Stiles is alive.

"Ok, you're wolfy and weird now. Scott, you're not a wolf, you're a human, you're my best friend. Focus on my voice, ok? Calm down again. Hey! Scott! I'm talking to you!"

The red eyes turn to meet his, and then Scott bares his teeth in a silent grimace. Stiles smiles and relaxes. He did it. He is an amazing anchor.

Then Scott's body convulses, and Stiles realizes that wasn't the Scott-is-phasing-back face. It was the Scott-is-about-to-cum face. Stiles has just enough time to freak out and almost fall of the bed again.

"Holy Shit!"

Scott shoots straight into Stiles' already cum stained T-shirt. But he shoots more jets of cum so strong that they spray straight over the T-shirt and cover his bare chest in the white liquid. Two especially strong spurts even go all the way to his cheek and jaw. Then the glow of Scott's eyes slowly dim, and his fangs retract.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" He gasps.

"For scaring me to death or for— I don't even know what you'd call what you did to my favorite T-shirt."

"I don't know what came over me. I woke up and you were… and then suddenly there was this smell. And I just had this urge to cover it up with my scent. Like you were challenging me and I had to—"

"Mark your territory? I guess you're more like dogs than I thought."

"I swear, I didn't know. I've caught the scent of another dude's jizz before, but never this… fresh."

"I guess I should be glad you didn't pee on it," Stiles said and absent mindedly rubbed Scott's saliva off his chin. "Regardless, this is going straight to the laundry."

Stiles took the drenched T-shirt with his thumb and forefinger and threw it across the room into his laundry basket.

"Stiles, I'm sorry."

"Eh, we've been through weirder stuff. Wow, that's so… much!" Stiles says and curiously runs a finger over a streak of cum that's covering Scott's nipple.

"Stiles!" Scott exclaims and starts laughing. "I told you I'm sensitive!"

"No, you're ticklish, ha! Ew, look how sticky it is!"

"Stiles!" Scott giggles and his whole body starts twitching.

"Behold! I have found the alphas weakness: his nipples! The one thing—"

Scott snatches his arm away and flips Stiles on his side in one swift yank. Suddenly Stiles is the little spoon and Scott is pressing him tightly to his chest.

"Very, very sticky!" Scott laughs and rubs his cheek against Stiles' neck, smearing his cum all over it.

"Lemme go, you're so gross!" Stiles giggles and tries to wiggle his way out of Scott's grip, in vain.

They laugh and struggle, and the sensation of Scott's bare chest against his back, rubbing against him, feels weird. Scott's cum is kind of slippery and sticky at the same time. It's weird. But also kinda good.

Stiles stops struggling and they lie there, panting.

"Do you think we'll be glued together if we stay like this?" Stiles asks.

"Werewolf cum is actually one of the strongest glues in the world."

"What?"

"I'm joking."

"Are you sure though? I heard that chimpanzee jizz is super sticky."

"I'm not a chimpanzee."

"Are there wer-chimpanzees?"

"You're being ridiculous."

"I'm just considering all the possibilities."

"Shut up, Stiles. Go back to sleep."

"What, like this? Hello? Are you going to give me a little room here?"

"No. I like this."

"I guess I don't really have a choice in the matter, do I?"

"Nope."

"Dumbass. Wait, is that a boner?"

"I thought we were past the awkwardness of having boners around each other."

"No, I mean it's cool. I'm just—you're getting hard again already?"

"It's because I kinda shifted when I came…"

"Wow, and I thought I was the one who's perpetually turned on."

"I can't help it. Your ass feels kinda nice."

"I know. I happen to have a very attractive ass."

"Shut up."

They lay still for a while, but Stiles' heart wouldn't stop racing.

"Scott?"

"Yeah?"

"Your boner is literally in my ass crack. Like, I can feel it through my boxers."

"Do you want me to…"

"Nah, it's cool." Stiles' voice shakes slightly.

That night, Stiles dreams about Scott fucking him.


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles wakes up early. It's not even light outside. He is sweating all over. Scott is still squeezing him closely, and he's way too warm. Stiles slowly pries himself out of Scott's embrace and tiptoes to the bathroom.

When the cool water runs over his body in the shower, Stiles exhales. Goofing around with Scott was fun. But there were a couple of moments when maybe they crossed a line? Maybe the whole covering up Stiles' scent was just werewolf weirdness. Maybe there was something more to it. Stiles absentmindedly runs his fingers over the crack of his ass. Feeling Scott's cock press against him hadn't felt weird at all, actually. And the dream… was really hot. He can't remember much from the dream, just a feeling. A good feeling. He starts fingering himself. He doesn't do this often, but it happens sometimes. He likes to keep an open mind, and pleasure can come from a lot of different places. He hesitates when he realizes he's thinking about Scott. This isn't right. Scott is his best friend.

He gets out of the shower, wraps a towel around him and goes back to his room. Scott is rubbing his eyes and yawning.

"You took a shower? What time is it?"

"I really needed one, thanks to your gross idea of a joke."

"I can still smell it on you."

"Smell what?"

"My cum."

"That can't be. I smell of avocado and shea butter."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's my new shampoo. And I won't have my taste in personal care products questioned by someone who's been using the same soap since kindergarten."

"Well, I can still smell it," Scott said, grinning, and tipped his nose.

"Frickin' werewolf senses!"

"If I can smell it, the others can to. So unless you want to explain to Isaac and the others why you smell of my cum, you should take another shower and wash your back again."

Stiles throws up his hands in defeat and goes back to the bathroom.

"You know, I can help you with your back…"

"Jesus, Scott!"

Stiles didn't realize Scott followed him. He's just wearing his boxers.

"Sorry."

"It's ok, just startled me."

"I could scrub your back," Scott says quietly. Stiles can tell Scott is nervous.

Stiles blinks. He briefly considers the amount of nakedness involved.

"I mean, if you don't want me to…" Scott mumbles.

"What, and pass the opportunity to be werewolf-nose-vetted clean? Washcloths are in the drawer under the sink," Stiles replies and climbs into the tub. He pulls the shower curtain closed and takes off his towel. He tries to hang the towel on its hook next to the shower, but struggles to find it while keeping the curtain shut. He nearly slips and dies. Then he feels Scott's hand taking the towel and hanging it properly.

The water is surprisingly cold and Stiles squeaks.

"You alright in there, Stiles?"

"Shuttup Scott."

"Ok, I'm coming in."

Stiles takes care to have his back turned to Scott. This doesn't need to be more embarrassing than it already is.

"So, does your werewolf smell still work in the shower?" he asks, soaping himself up as best he can.

"Not as well," Scott replies. "It depends on how much soap is involved. But if I get close enough—hey!"

Stiles squirted the shampoo bottle at him over his shoulder.

"Just leveling the playing field," Stiles says triumphantly. "Ow!"

A sponge hit him in the head. He turns around and flicks the foam from his head at Scott.

"Take that you—argh!"

Scott gathers a mouthful of water and spits it in Stiles' face.

"You spit in my face!" Stiles exclaims, laughing. "Get cracking on my back before I kick you out."

Scott reaches around him and grabs the soap bar.

"What, you're not going to use bleach? I think—oh!"

The soft washcloth against his shoulder blades feels nice. Really nice. His eyes roll back and he steadies himself against the tiles.

"You should do that more often."

"What, rub my cum on your back?"

"No! That was gross!" Stiles says, raising a disapproving finger for emphasis. "I mean giving me back massages. Let's say every time I – mh – kick your ass during game night you have to – oh – give me a massage."

"And every time I save your life you have to massage me," Scott suggests.

"Werewolf powers are cheating. It doesn't – are you sniffing me? Because it feels like you're sniffing me." He feels Scott's nose grazing lightly across his skin.

"Yeah – just to be sure I didn't miss anything."

Stiles forgets the snarky response he was going to say. Scott's hand is traveling lower and lower down his back. His fingers are about to reach the crack of his ass, and Stiles' heart skips a beat. They're so warm. Now he's reaching into his crack, and he lets out an involuntary whimper. Scott's finger is resting against his hole, and it makes his entire body tingle. A nose nuzzles against the nape of his neck. Stiles relaxes with a shudder. The fingertip slips in.

Stiles yelps up with a jump, his arms flailing. He grabs hold of the shower curtain for balance. It tears off and he falls out of the tub, wrapped up in a tangled mess of shower curtain.

"Scott, what the hell are you doing!"

Scott looks like he's been slapped in the face.

"I'm sorry, Stiles. I should go."

"I thought you were scrubbing my back! And then you… why did you—"

"I don't know, okay?" Scott yells.

"No more showering together."

"I'm sorry."

"It's ok. I'll see you at school."

The school day goes by fine. Nobody seems to smell anything different about Stiles, so that's a relief. But he and Scott don't say much beyond saying hi and bye. It's killing Stiles.

Stiles lies in bed, worrying about whether Scott will come tonight. When he hears the windowsill creak, he sighs with relief. Scott is wearing his boxers and tank top like always, and climbs into bed next to Stiles without a word.

"Look, I'm sorry I freaked out, ok?" Stiles begins.

"No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have… done that. I don't know why I did it."

"Don't worry about it."

"Are we cool then?"

"Scott I'm you're best friend. Of course we're cool."

Stiles looks over and grins mischievously.

"But we're not even! How would you like to be poked in your sensitive spot!" he says. He rolls over to Scott and pinches his nipple through his tank top.

"Stiles, stop!" Scott laughs. But he doesn't resist. Any other time, he would start wrestling with Stiles, but this time he just lies on his back. In fact, he is arching his back and gasping.

"Stiles, I'm ticklish, I – ngh!"

"Doesn't look like tickling to me."

Stiles reaches under the tank top and plays with Scott's bare nipple. It's hard and perky.

Scott's eyes flutter shut and he bites his lip.

"Stiles, it's too much!" he presses out, half giggling and half moaning.

"Challenge accepted," Stiles laughs. Without giving it much thought, he leans over and starts licking Scott's nipple.

Scott moans out loud and arches his back so suddenly that Stiles is thrown off. He laughs and charges in again, licking and nibbling vigorously now.

"Stiles stop, or I'm going to—"

Stiles interrupts his licking and looks up.

"What, come in your pants from this? You're ridiculous, nobody's nipples are that sensitive."

"See for yourself!" Scott says and grabs him by the shoulder. There's not much wrestling, he just pins Stiles' back to the bed. With a single yank, Scott tears open Stiles T-Shirt and starts sucking on his nipple.

Stiles laughs and folds his hands behind his head.

"This is nice and all, dude, but this really isn't doing all that much for me."

Scott pinches his other nipple and in the process starts grinding his crotch against Stiles'. They're both hard.

"Sorry to disappoint, but I think this proves that you're just a freak with overly sensitive nipples," he giggles.

Scott stops.

"Can I try a different spot then?"

"Sure." Stiles replies, shrugging.

Scott licks his lips and grins. He yanks Stiles pants down and scoots down.

"Wowowow, hold on a – HOLY MOTHER OF GOD!"

Scott just took his entire cock into his mouth. His lips are warm and wet, and oh boy, his tongue is doing incredible things. In no time, Stiles loses all control. He digs his fingers into the mattress and gasps so much, he's almost hyperventilating.

"Scott! Stopstopstop, I'm gonna—I'm gonna—!"

Scott pops his mouth off of Stiles' cock and grins.

"What, come? You're being ridiculous. Nobody is so sensitive that they'd come from just a few seconds of – whoa!"

Stiles is shooting his load straight into Scott's surprised open mouth. He can't help it. Scott's expression is frozen with astonishment and disbelief, and Stiles is covering his lips and cheeks and chin with streaks of cum.

Stiles stares at Scott's cum-covered face and Scott stares right back.

"I didn't think you'd come that fast…"

"Shit. Damn it!" Stiles curses and pulls his pants back up again.

"What's the matter?"

"Just… leave me alone," Stiles says and rolls away from Scott. He digs himself into the sheets and turns off the light.

"What?"

"I'm sorry for coming in your face, ok?"

"It's ok, it doesn't taste bad actually."

"Stop talking!" Stiles yells. "I mean, let's just go to sleep ok?" he says, calming down again.

"What's wrong?"

"This wasn't supposed to happen like this. Now can we _please_ go to sleep?"

"Ok."

This is the side Scott usually sleeps on. It smells of him.

The next night, Stiles comes back from brushing his teeth and Scot is already in his bed, the sheets puled up to his nose.

"You're doing the puppy dog eyes again," Stiles says and closes the door behind him.

"Sorry," Scott grins. "I just want to know why you got so angry last night."

Stiles sits down next to him and sighs.

"I guess I was just frustrated. Scott, we always tell each other everything, right?"

"Yeah."

"So you know I'm still a virgin."

"Yeah."

"So. That was my first time getting a blowjob."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"I didn't think about it that way. We were just playing around..."

"Of course you didn't. Anyway, I totally fucked up. I wanted it to be perfect, you know? With someone special."

"I'm not special?"

"No, that's not what I mean. Of course you're special. But not _special_ special. I mean, you're my best friend, of course you're _special_ special. But you're not like the special someone, you know? I don't know. When I started jacking off, I imagined my first time to be with Lydia of course. But hell if that's ever going to happen. So then I thought I might just get it over with and practice with Danny or Ethan or whoever."

"Wait, with a guy?"

"I mean, guys are way easier to talk to. But turns out I'm apparently not attractive to gay guys."

"So you imagined your first time with Danny or other guys, but I'm not special enough?"

"Ok, never mind what I said about the special thing. You're the most special in my life, ok? I thought you knew that. I wouldn't be having this conversation – this super awkward conversation - with you if you weren't. And no, I've never thought about having my first time with you. You're my best friend. But that's not the point! I fucked up!"

"Why do you say that?"

"I mean, did _you_ come after like two seconds when you got your first blowjob?"

"I see your point."

"Yeah."

"But it was Alison's first time giving a blowjob, so she wasn't very good at it."

"So? It was your first time giving a blowjob too, right?"

"I mean, it was so short, I don't know if I would call it a—"

Stiles glares at him.

"Yes! Yes, it was my first time. Forget I said anything. So I take it I was… good?"

"I mean—Duh! Obviously." Stiles looks down, embarrassed.

"See? You didn't fuck up at all."

"Thanks for saying that."

"Whatever calms your heartbeat."

Stiles rolls his eyes.

"Dude, do you, like, ever _not_ listen to my heartbeat?"

"Come here. Give me your hand."

Stiles lies down next to him and stretches his arm out. Scott pulls it under the sheets and presses Stiles' hand against his chest.

"You're not wearing your tank top."

"Now you can feel my heartbeat too."

"Huh."

"Stiles?"

"Yeah?"

"Why didn't you want to lose your virginity with me?"

"Scott, I told you, you're the most—"

"It's not a competition thing. I was just wondering…"

"I mean, I don't know. I never thought about you that way. Jerking off together is fun and everything, and don't get me wrong, you have a very hot body, but—"

"Wait, did you just say I'm hot?" Scott says, grinning.

"What! I think it's safe to say that objectively speaking, you're an attractive person, what with all the wolf muscles and the abs, and the motorcycle—"

"You said 'hot' though, not 'attractive'," Scott interrupted him.

"I mean, yeah. I guess I find your body… hot. You could say that."

"It's cool, I just didn't know you thought about me that way."

"Oh, shut up." Stiles tries to pull his hand away again, but Scott holds it firmly. He slowly moves it down to his abs. They feel warm and firm, and interesting. Stiles has never felt a guy's abs before.

"I guess I lost my giving-a-blowjob virginity with you. I didn't really think about it that way until you mentioned it."

"And your virginity of getting a facial," Stiles says and chuckled.

They both giggle at the memory.

"Yeah, I totally didn't see that coming," Scott says, still laughing.

"I'm sorry, dude. I tried to warn you. Was it that bad?"

"No, it was fine." Scott pauses and Stiles notices his heartbeat quickening. "I'd do it again." Scott says it casually, as if he were suggesting a rematch during game night.

Stiles is stunned.

"I mean, only if you want to," Scott adds, sounding embarrassed.

Stiles finds his voice again.

"We can't do it again. That's the thing about virginity. It only happens once."

"We could go all the way this time…"

"Scott, are you wearing anything underneath here?" Stiles says, trying to deflect. He can't quite believe what Scott just suggested. He's also definitely getting hard at the idea.

"I promise I'll be gentle…"

Stiles' hand wanders further down Scott's body. There's no fabric. Scott is probably naked. Most likely. Definitely.

"You want to take away my _virginity_ virginity?"

Scott nods.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Stiles asks hoarsely.

Scott nods again.

"You want to sex me, like real full on sex, like right now, like put-your-dick-in-my-ass sex?"

Scott's eyes light up bright red for a second.

"Is that so hard to believe?" Scott asks. He's crinkling his eyebrows like he's actually worried about being rejected.

"Frankly, yes!"

In one swift movement, Scott climbs on top of him. Stiles yelps, lets go of Scott's stomach, and reflexively shields his face.

"Stiles, it's me."

Stiles lowers his arms. Scott is on all fours, towering over him. His messy brown hair falls across his forehead. His skin looks so supple in the light of Stiles' bedside lamp. The sheet is covering him loosely from the hip down, and Stiles can't take his eyes off Scott's waist.

"Do you believe me now that I want to?" Scott breathes. The look in his eyes is intense – and red.

"When did you get so bold all of a sudden?" Stiles squeaks.

Scott's mouth turns into a crooked smile. His lips look soft. Stiles wonders what it would feel like to kiss them.

"When you started smelling so fucking sexy," he replies, and leans down to run his nose against the side of Stiles' neck. Stiles holds his breath.

"I've always liked the way you smell, Stiles. Even before I became a werewolf. But now it's just…"

Scott grabs Stiles' pajama T-Shirt and tears it open. He sniffs deeply and growls, his werewolf teeth starting to show.

Stiles panics and tries to get out from under Scott. He remembers Scott's weakness, so he grabs Scott's nipples and twists hard. Scott collapses, groaning, and suddenly Stiles is smothered by the heavy weight of a naked werewolf. But Stiles manages to roll him off to the side, and they both fall off the bed.

"Dude, you're scaring the shit out of me!" Stiles cries out, scrambling to his feet. Scott does the same, awkwardly holding the sheet around his waist.

"I'm sorry Stiles."

"The eyes I'm used to. But the teeth still freak me out up close."

"I'm sorry," Scott says, looking down.

They stand there for a while. Stiles is very visibly hard through his pajama boxers, and there is an equally obvious tent in Scott's sheet.

"You listening to my heartbeat again?"

Scott nods, still not looking at him.

"Alright, you got me, I'm horny. What do you want me to say? I'm just – Do you really want to…?"

Scott looks at him.

"…put your dick in my…" Stiles' voice falls to a whisper. "…ass?"

Scott looks away again and blushes deeply.

"I didn't even know you were into guys," Stiles says.

"I'm not."

"Then why did you… then why are we…?"

"It's just you," Scott says, carefully meeting Stiles' eyes again. "The other night when you jerked off next to me – you made that face when you came, and that sound… I want to see that again."

"You want to see my orgasm-face again?"

"It's more than that. I want to be the reason why you make that face. I want to make that sound come out of you."

At those words, Stiles cock twitches in his boxers. Scott sees it and smiles.

"I…" Stiles stammers. "I um… that could – I can work with that. Could you…"

"You're stammering. You're Stiles and you're stammering," Scot says, grinning.

"Shut up, dumbass. Just let me finish. That thing you did in the shower…"

Scott's face lights up as if someone just told him he got a B on his math test.

"You want me to do it again?"

"I was going to say if you want to, because, you know, I still feel bad for freaking out on you, and after all it didn't feel so bad, it actually felt kind of— and since you said you wanted to, you know… I thought it might be—"

Scott takes a step forward and presses his index finger against Stiles' lips.

Stiles shuts up.

Scott slides his fingertip between Stiles' lips and peels his mouth open. He flashes a wide smile and slowly pushes in. Stiles' eyes flutter shut as he wraps his tongue around Scott's finger. There's now pretending now. This isn't friendly wrestling, or accidental touching, or jerking off to porn together. Scott said he wanted to make him come. And now he's exploring Stiles' mouth with his finger.

"Turn around," Scott says and pulls his finger out with a pop.

Scott reaches into the back of Stiles' boxers. His warm strong fingers move into Stiles' crack, and when Scott breathes down his neck, Stiles shudders so hard that his knees grow weak. Scott places his wet finger against Stiles' hole, and Stiles whimpers. He leans into Scott's touch, and just as he feels his strong chest against his back, the finger slips in.

Stiles' knees give out and he collapses on the floor.

"Stiles?"

"I'm ok, I'm ok!"

Stiles trips over the sheet and goes down again, even less gracefully than before. As he rubs his head, he looks up and sees Scott standing naked in front of him, trying to suppress a laugh.

Stiles' jaw drops. Scott's dick is beautiful.

"Here, let me," Scott says. He tugs at Stiles' boxers and slips them all the way off. Then he grabs Stiles like he's carrying a bride over the doorstep and gently places him on the bed.

"Don't fall off again."

"Ah, you know me. Keeps me on my toes—what are you doing?" Scott folds Stiles' legs up and bends down.

"Are you going to – HOLY SHIT!"

Scott's tongue is lapping at his hole. Stiles doesn't know what's driving him more crazy now – the incredible warm and ticklish electrifying feeling of Scott's tongue, or the idea that his best friend is licking his ass right now.

Scott emerges from between Stiles' legs and grins.

"Keep going. For God's sake, Scott, keep going," Stiles pants.

Scott's grin widens and he buries his face in Stiles' ass again. Stiles digs his fingers into the sheets for support, but it's not helping. He whines and whimpers, thrashing his head from side to side. He can feel himself opening up to Scott's tongue, slowly giving up all resistance.

When Scott's tongue slips in, Stiles hiccups so hard, he almost swallows his tongue.

"Stiles, are you ok?"

Stiles moans something incoherent, but Scott understands. Scott always understands. He smiles, licks his lips, and slides his tongue back into Stiles. Scott's beautiful lips are pressed against Stiles' ass right now, and the thought of it drives him insane.

"Oh fuck, Scott, MMH! Fuck! Fuck me," he presses out through gritted teeth.

"What did you say?" Scott asks. He looks hopeful and excited.

"You heard me. Werewolf hearing, right?" Stiles replies weakly and gestures wolf ears.

Scott straightens up.

"You're dripping that much, just from—?" Stiles notices.

Scott nods, licking his lips again.

Then he presses his cock against Stiles' hole. It feels firm and hot. He probably needs more stretching before he's ready. But then Scott puts and arm on his shoulder and his veins turn black. Stiles is about to protest the werewolf power, but then he feels Scott pushing against his hole.

Scott looks at him tenderly, his lips slightly parted. That's all it takes for Stiles to relax onto his cock. The tip pops into Stiles ass and he throws his head back in pleasure.

Scott's eyes are wide with surprise.

"Fuck, Stiles! You're so tight!"

He presses his lips down in concentration and stops pushing in. Stiles looks at his arm, but the veins aren't black anymore.

"Scott? What's the matter?"

"Don't move. You feel so amazing. Too amazing. I have to concentrate, so I don't…"

But Stiles needs him all the way in – and he needs it now. He slowly pushes himself further onto Scott's cock.

"Stiles! Don't move, or I'm going to—"

"Then we'll be even," Stiles replies, gasping with pleasure as Scott slides all the way in. He braces himself against the headboard and starts rocking his hips against Scott.

"Stiles! Stop, I'm gonna—AH!"

Stiles reaches out and pinches Scott's nipple very gently.

The werewolf eyes flash up bright red again and Scott groans in pleasure. He grabs Stiles by the shoulders and starts thrusting into him forcefully. His breath is shallow and his movements become jerky and frantic.

"Stiles! Fuck! I'm coming!"

Scott's cock pulses inside him, and his face is twisted into a silent scream as he bucks his hips.

"You just came inside me! You just came in my ass!" Stiles says in amazement. He can't believe this actually just happened.

Scott pins him to the bed, his eyes returning to their normal brown again.

"You made me cum once. But we're not done with your virginity."

He grins a crooked smile and looks at Stiles as if to challenge him. He pumps into him slowly, grinding his hips and entire body into Stiles. Cum is running down Stiles crack, and every time Scott rams into him, it makes a slapping sound.

Suddenly Scott's cock hits something inside Stiles, and he cries out with pleasure. Scott grins and keeps the angle. With every thrust, a new trop of precum leaks out of Stiles cock onto his stomach.

"Harder!" Stiles whimpers. He grabs Scott's head with both hands and pulls him closer. Their faces are only inches apart, and they breathe into each other's mouths.

"Fuck me harder, Scott! Just do it!"

Scott starts pounding into Stiles, hitting him right against the prostate every single time. He doesn't even have time to warn Scott that he's about to come. He starts making his Stiles-orgasm-whimper without meaning to.

Scott raises his eyebrows and opens his mouth in amused surprise. Stiles can't do anything about it. He can't stop making that embarrassing whimpering noise as he spills all over his stomach.

Stiles is still shooting his load when Scott's squeezes his eyes shut and starts grunting. He grits his teeth and starts pumping faster into Stiles, which turns Stiles' whimper into an even less manly squeal.

"FUCK!" Scott shouts, and this time Stiles feels the blast of cum inside his ass. A shudder runs through Scott's body as he squirts the last of his orgasm into Stiles. Then he opens his eyes again and meets Stiles' gaze.

Scott pulls out and rolls off him. They lie next to each other, for a while, just panting. The second round of Scott's cum is oozing out of Stiles' ass, and his own cum starts to liquefy and run down along his waist, armpits – even his neck.

"Scott, I just had the best orgasm of my entire life. And you know I pride myself in jerking off more than three times a day. You didn't even touch my dick. How is that even possible?"

"I'm just really sexy?"

"Dumbass."

"I did too. And I came twice. Gotta love werewolf recovery time."

Without thinking, they sit up and do one of the Scott-Stiles high-five sequences. When the carefully crafted choreography is over, they burst out giggling.

Stiles stares at Scott's crooked smile. He can't stop looking away from those lips. He leans forward, and Scott stops giggling, too. Stiles eyes keep going back and forth between Scott's lips and his eyes. He really wants to do this. Why is this suddenly so difficult? Didn't Scott just fuck him and come in his ass – twice?

Stiles licks his lips. He tilts his head to the left, then to the right, then back to the left. Which angle was the right one again? Maybe he should check his breath. His first kiss with Scott should be perfect. His first kiss with Scott? Oh my God. He's about to kiss Scott.

"Stiles."

Scott grabs his hand and presses it against his chest. Scott's heart is hammering even faster than Stiles'.

"Kiss me," Scott says softly. The way his lips part when he says the word 'me' is too much to handle for Stiles, and he goes for it.

Scott's mouth is even softer than Stiles imagined. They nuzzle their noses against each other, and Scott starts nipping at Stiles' lower lip. Scott tastes and smells so good. Like years of sleepovers and movie nights and game nights and sex all put together.

Stiles brakes away and catches his breath.

Scott smiles a shy smile. Their eyes meet.

"Am I your boyfriend now?" Stiles asks.

"No. You're my best friend."

"Well, you just fucked your best friend."

"And I want to keep fucking my best friend Again, and over and over again."

Stiles smiles to himself, biting his lower lip. That's exactly what he needed to hear.

"Stiles?"

"Yeah?"

"Kiss me again."


End file.
